Their Story
by rara4444
Summary: After Fred's death George must learn how to live again and how to love again with the help of our favorite Know-It-All. Please R/R! Tell me if I should continue or keep it a one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. On with the show.**

Chapter 1- Aftermath

The young brunette looked at herself critically in the mirror, checking for wrinkles on her black robes while glancing at the clock every minute or so. _I really should get going_ she thought to herself after seeing that the clock read 11:48; _the funerals are starting in twelve minutes._ The thought filled her with sudden dread as the reason that she was getting dressed up filled her mind.

After the tumulus "Final Battle" just four days previously, the wizarding world had begun to grieve their dead, including many members of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin and Fred Weasley being among those that were lost. As memories of the kindly werewolf, his bubbly Auror wife, and the notorious prankster washed over the witch a lone tear traveled down her face, leaving behind a salty trail. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and turned to leave Ginny's room and go down the rickety stairs of the Burrow.

As she walked into the hallway she decided to check the bedrooms for any stragglers and started opening bedroom doors. She quickly found herself standing in front of the last door in the hallway, wondering how a plain wooden door could look so daunting. _Fred and Geo─ no, just George's room now_. She stood there silently for a minute, and then shook off her feelings of cowardice and eased open the door, which squeaked slightly as it moved. After peeking her head inside the room that was still dark as night despite the sun shining outside, it was quickly deduced that the lone figure sitting on one of the twin beds turning a Quidditch jersey in his hands was the remaining Weasley twin. The girl coughed slightly to alert him to her presence, and as he had not ordered her out, decided to speak.

"Um… George?" she said, blushing as he turned his gaze to her. She cleared her throat and started again. "The funerals are in a few minutes. Are you ready?"

"Sure Hermione, just give me a moment, alright?" he responded in an oddly warm tone, contradicting the blank look he had in his eyes.

"Of course ─ I mean, don't rush or anything, we still have some time." She rushed in, mentally berating herself for being so thoughtless. _Of course he'll need some more time, he's burying his twin today…that would make anyone need to take a moment._

She slowly moved towards him, pausing every few steps in case he decided to ask her to leave, and soon reached the bed. As she watched George silently turning the jersey in his hands over and over, she crept to his side and sat down next to him. He then lifted his arm, reached over toward her,and hugged her to his side. Hermione leaned in and breathed deeply, smelling the scent that was purely George: sour candies and freshly mowed grass. She then felt his body shift as he took in a gulp of air and started to speak softly to her.

"He didn't want to play Quidditch at first, you know," he murmured, staring at the faded lettering on the jersey's back.

"Really?" Hermione whispered back, as she stared at his hands, big and rough, yet handling the jersey so gently it was as though it was made of glass.

"Yeah. He only joined the team because I wanted to and we did everything together. We were going to do everything together. We were going to have a big double wedding, raise our kids together, get old TOGETHER!" His voice got louder and louder with each word, and his hands started clenching the jersey, crumpling it into a ball.

Hermione could not figure out what to say, but she knew that George needed to get this out of his system. "He loved you George. He'd want you to be happy─"

"I don't care what he'd want me to be, Hermione!" George jumped up, threw the jersey onto the floor and strode to the other side of the room. "If he loved me, if he wanted me to be happy, he would be here! He'd be alive! He wouldn't have left me here, alone!" he ranted, not noticing Hermione come quickly up behind him.

She walked over to where George was standing and turned him to face her. "Don't you DARE say that you are alone in this George Weasley! Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. Alone. You have your family, your friends... you have me." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug, inwardly shuddering from the feel of his arms moving to hold her tight.

He tucked her head under his chin and sniffed her hair, relishing in the smell of apples and roses. "But none of you are Fred," he said into her bushy mess of a mane.

"No, none of us are Fred, George. But that doesn't mean we don't care about you," she murmured against his chest.

George pulled her tighter against him and relaxed against her body, letting himself go as his tears created wet streaks on her dress. Hermione squeezed him and patted his back gently as she let him sob on her shoulder, and offered soft words of comfort to him. He hiccuped slightly as the tears stopped flowing and he nuzzled into her hair. Sighing, he let go of her and wiped the tears off of his face as she stood there awkwardly.

"We should get going now," she said, peering at the clock on his wall. He nodded his consent and grabbed his shoes and slipped them on before turning to Hermione and gathering her in his arms. He spared a quick glance at the rumpled red jersey that was strewn onto the floor before apparating both of them to outside of the Hogwarts gates.

**Tell me if you think that I should continue or keep this a one-shot. Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for all of the reviews guys! :) Since most of my reviewers want me to continue with the story that is what I'm going to do. YAY!!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. On with the show.**

Chapter 2- Breakdown

The two arrived with a loud pop and started to look around at their surroundings. Hermione gazed past the gates at a shadowy figure steadily moving towards them. She tapped George's shoulder and after catching his attention, pointed towards the figure. "George, look. It's Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed.

Hagrid soon reached them and unlocked the gates, granting entrance to the grounds. "'ello 'ermione, George," he boomed.

"Hello Hagrid," they echoed, walking quickly to keep up with Hagrid's long strides.

"'ow ya doin' George?" Hagrid asked in a low rumble as the castle came into view. He looked down and took in the young man's slightly hunched form and chilly demeanor and began to wonder whether or not he said the wrong thing.

"I'm fine Hagrid. Just fine," George responded, leaving no room for arguments as he looked around the grounds. He suddenly halted and stared straight ahead, causing Hermione to knock into him lightly.

"George what are you­-" she stopped as she saw what he was staring at. The line of coffins. All who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts, laid out for their last respects, their final homes gleaming in the sun. "Oh, George..." she trailed off as she gazed up at him and took in his defensive stance, looking as though he was trying to keep the pain away by placing a stone facade over his features. Hermione looked back over to the seemingly never-ending line of caskets and immediately saw Mrs. Weasley sobbing near one of them.

George was without words. The fact that his mother, the Weasley matriarch, the witch who defeated Bellatrix Lestrange was in tears struck a chord within him. He wanted to scream,to yell, that nobody knew Fred like he did. No one would miss him like he did. _He _should be the one crying, not her._ No one should be crying at all_ a voice whispered inside of his head. _Fred should be here. _He gulped and struggled to hold back tears, his body shaking with the effort.

Suddenly, he felt a small, warm hand grasping his own, softly calloused palms touching his rough ones. He looked down and watched as Hermione's fingers intertwined with his. He looked up at her face, her jaw set, eyes blazing, and he realized what she was doing. She was creating a united front. She was offering extra strength for him to face everyone with, and like a drowning man, he wildly grasped it.

Hermione looked up at him and he understood. She cared about him. She cared about him enough that when they reached their fellow mourners and heard them mutter about the two of them she did not as much as bat an eyelash. As he threw himself at Fred's closed coffin she did not waver and leave like the others who were afraid of his grief. And as he collapsed from the emotions overwhelming him as Fred's body was lowered into the ground she held him while his body racked in sobs. She just held him. Held him and fed her strength to him like a mother would to her babe. And he drank it.


End file.
